Confessions of a Tavern Girl
by melissakay
Summary: A priest gets more than he bargained for when a young woman comes to confess that Guy of Gisborne is the father of her unborn, illegitimate child...


**Confessions of a Tavern Girl**

_(A racy Robin Hood fanfic featuring Guy of Gisborne)_

'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last confession.'

The overweight, middle aged man on the other side of the gossamer curtain coughed and cleared his throat. 'What is your sin, dear child?'

The young woman blushed. 'Oh, well… see, it's rather embarrassing…'

'I'm sure it's nothing I haven't heard before.'

She couldn't help but feel as though the priest was impatient for some reason. Not to hear her story, but to get it all over and done with. A born obstinate streak overtook her. She decided to take her time with this one!

'Well,' she said, 'I work at the tavern, as you know…'

'Go on'

'And the other day, Guy of Gisborne walked in. He was looking for one of our regulars, a man named Hubert. Seems Hubert owes money to the Sheriff. Anyway, as he passed me by he grabbed my uh… well, my behind! Can you imagine it! I was rather horrified.'

'And how is his debauchery a sin of yours, my child?'

'Well,' she said, feeling her cheeks grow warmer by the minute, 'then he asked if I did more than just serve mead. You know to what I refer. Anyway, I told him no, under no circumstances. He asked if I boarded at the tavern and I asked what business it was of his. He said he would make me very comfortable – financially – if I did the same thing for him… uh… well, in other ways. I… I… am a girl of very simple means, Father. I had to consider it. My family are destitute, and…'

'No more excuses,' coughed the priest. 'You considered whoring yourself out. That is a sin in itself. Ten Hail Marys and an act of contrition…'

'But that's not all, Father,' she said, aware she was interrupting a man of the cloth and not caring in the slightest. 'That's not even half of it.'

'Oh?' She noted a tone of curiosity in his voice. 'Do go on.'

'Well,' she said, 'I don't know how he found out where I live – he must have followed me home after I finished work, or had me followed, anyway. Because I woke up later that evening, to find him sitting on the bed beside me! He put a hand over my mouth to stop me from alerting my sister and her husband, whom I share lodgings with. It was all very alarming. I start shaking whenever I think about it.'

'I can imagine,' said the priest. 'It must have been very frightening. Gisborne isn't the most considerate of men. Or so I've heard.'

'Well, yes,' she agreed, although her thoughts didn't quite mesh with his! 'I _was _frightened.'

'What happened next?'

'He said he needed a go-between, someone he could trust to leave messages with at the tavern. And that I would be well paid. I didn't know why he had to wait until I was in bed to ask such things of me! Anyway I said yes. Like I told you, I need the money. Then he said… he said…'

'He said what, my dear?'

'He said that he was very grateful that I'd agreed to help him, and that he wanted to show his gratitude. The way he looked at me… he has these intense blue eyes… they do things to you, you have no idea. I felt _compelled_ to let him…'

'Compelled?'

'He leaned forward and touched my face. And he said he wanted to kiss me. He said he hadn't been able to stop thinking of me since he saw me in the tavern earlier that day. So I let him. Kiss me, I mean.'

'And?'

'And I was surprised at how much I liked it. He's really quite a gentle man, despite his reputation… and all the black leather. And the perpetual scowl. He's a good kisser, too.' She giggled, and remembered how her knees had turned to jelly and she'd thought it was lucky she was lying down.

'So he kissed you. What else?'

'What do you mean; what else?'

'Is that it?'

'Well, no,' she said, taken aback by the priest's manner. 'But I was just getting to that.'

'Well get to it quicker, my child. Time's a wasting! I have other people's confessions to take this morning.'

She sat there, in the small chamber, shocked. 'Oh… in that case, I'll just go then, shall I?'

'No,' he said, quickly, and she thought she heard the snap of elastic from the other side of the curtain. What in heaven's name was he doing over there?! 'I mean, go on.'

'Well, then he started to um… you know, _touch_ me. He kept kissing me but I think that was just a ruse, so that I would be distracted. His hand slipped down from my face to my bosom. Before I knew it he'd unlaced my nightgown and had a hand in there, fondling my breast.'

'Well did you stop him? Cry rape? Cry _anything_?'

'No,' she said, blushing again, but this time with shame. 'I didn't. I… I didn't want him to stop.'

'So let me get this straight,' said the priest, 'He stole into your house, let alone your bedroom, and _compelled_ you to let him kiss you, then started touching you, and you just… let him?'

'I know,' she said, lowering her eyes in contrition. 'It's bad, isn't it? Am I going to hell?'

'Not if you are sorry for what you did, and make penance,' said the priest. 'I guess that's the million dollar question. _Are_ you sorry?'

'I… uh… I don't know,' she admitted. 'I suppose I am…'

'You suppose?! That's not good enough, child.'

'I know,' she conceded. 'The thing is; it gets worse.'

'Worse? How could it get worse?'

'He… he… he didn't just kiss my mouth,' she blurted. 'He kissed his way down my neck, and well I was so surprised… I sort of wanted to see what he would do next.'

'What did he do next?'

'He… he opened the front of my nightgown right up and kissed my breasts. I had never had that done to me before and I… it felt… _really_ good.'

'Hm, too good, by the sounds of things!' grumbled the priest. 'Then what?'

She had to pause for a moment then because she was almost too embarrassed to admit what had happened after that. But this was Confession. She'd been brought up to believe that if she didn't confess her sins and do penance for them, God would know and punish her, perhaps severely. She didn't want to be punished at all. Not for what had happened in her bedroom with Guy of Gisborne. She felt she'd already been punished enough. After all, she was sixteen, unwed, and with child. In these times, well, that was a social death sentence.

'He put his hand _down there_, under my nightgown, and said that if I already felt good, he could make me feel better. And he did. I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip, to keep from making noise and waking up my sister and her husband. Such things he did! He knew just how to touch me… and those eyes… he just watched me lose control, like it was a game to him. There's something wrong with him, there really is.'

'But you said he was gentle.'

'He was. He wasn't rough. That's all I meant.'

'So he took advantage of you.'

'Oh yes,' she said, hating that she sounded so happy about it!

'And that's all he did. He snuck into your room to kiss you, fondle you, and watch you climax. Is that it?'

'Of course not,' she said. 'What would be the point of that?'

'So he raped you?'

She actually had to think about that! 'No,' she decided. 'He didn't. By then I really wanted him.'

'But when he first appeared at your bedside you were frightened, were you not?'

'Of course.'

'And only moments later, you were happy to let this man who'd broken into your house, this man you'd only just met that day, have his way with you?'

She bit her lip. 'Well I suppose when you put it like that…'

'I don't have to put it like anything, my dear. You say there's something wrong with him… I think there's something fundamentally wrong with _you_. In fact, you two might well be a perfect match for each other.'

'But you don't understand! You have to see him to know what I'm saying… well, you have to be a _woman_ to know what I'm saying. He was so hard to resist!'

'Oh yes,' said the priest. 'It's that bad boy reputation of his. Women _love_ a bad boy.'

'Plus he's positively _dreamy_ to look at,' she added. 'There is that.' She sighed. 'People warned me about him. The other girls at the tavern warned me about him. But I didn't listen.'

'What could you have done? He took all control away from you,' said the priest, conspiratorially. 'He followed you, or had you followed, pinned you down in bed and seduced you.'

'Exactly!'

'Did you say no?'

'What?'

'Throughout the whole thing – did you say no, even once?'

She had to think about that! 'Um… No? No, I didn't.'

'Then you weren't a victim,' the priest decided. 'You sinned just as much as he did. You acted like a wanton harlot.'

She felt tears close to the surface. 'You can't say that!'

'I just did,' he said. 'And to start doing penance, you need to tell me what happened next. Blow by blow. Come on. Get it all out. You'll feel better.'

Yeah, she thought, sourly, her hand on her belly. I've been told _those _three words before!

'Well,' she sniffed, 'He… after he made me… you know…'

'Say it.'

'After he made me… come with his fingers, he stood up and took off his pants. And I couldn't stop gawking, because you see, the rumours are true. He's hung like a horse.'

'Then what did he do?'

'He… he… wanted me to touch him like he'd done to me. He took my hand and showed me how to pleasure him. He made me squeeze him _hard_. I thought I was hurting him but he nearly came, right there. Then he climbed into bed with me.'

'And then what?'

'I… I've never been so close to a man before. I was a virgin before this, believe it or not. I was as curious as I was scared. So I started to undress the top half of him. He wears so many layers. I don't know how he copes in the summertime. Anyway, he has an _amazing_ body. Very toned, and smooth… _and those shoulders_!'

'All right,' said the priest, 'Let's move on, shall we? You say you were a virgin before. Did he have… difficulty?'

'Yes,' she said, blushing. 'Is that a question a priest should be asking?'

'Just trying to get all the facts,' said Father O'Toole. 'Go on.'

'Well um… this is truly embarrassing…' So much so that she literally did not want to tell the priest whom had baptised her, the full, uncensored story!

'Don't be embarrassed, child, remember, I've heard it all.'

'Really?'

'Truly.'

She gulped. 'Okay,' she said, hesitantly. 'Well, he couldn't… get it in at first. I was just too nervous, and my muscles were too tight, or something. So he… He started kissing me again. He pushed my nightgown up and kissed his way down my body. I can't tell you how it felt… I don't have the words.'

'You don't have to, dear,' said the priest. 'Just the bare facts will be sufficient.'

'So then he…. He kept kissing me, even when he got _down there_. It was very strange at first, and I was awfully embarrassed, but then I stopped thinking about how strange it felt, because I couldn't think anything but _whoa… _I mean, that was… I don't know quite _what_ that was.'

'That was oral sex, my dear,' said the priest. 'Or so I'm told.'

'What?'

'He went down on you.'

'Oh.'

'So what then?'

'Well, apparently I was relaxed enough then, and he could… you know, enter me. And so, he did. And that's it.'

'That's it? You're going to end the story there?'

She felt somehow violated. 'What, you want a play-by-play of every thrust? What are you, some kind of pervert? He was good, that's all I'll say. Not that I have much to compare it to, but I've heard that girls don't… come with straight penetration very often, and I did. Is that detailed enough for you?'

When he didn't answer, she frowned, and leaned in closer to the curtain. 'Father, are you still there?'

She could hear breathing on the other side of the thin curtain, raspy, uneven breathing. What was he doing, having a heart attack? 'Oh my God, Father,' she said, 'Oh… forgive me for taking the Lord's name in vain in your House… Father, are you all right?'

'Yes… yes… I'm fine… ' panted the priest. 'Just leave me… for a bit…'

'Aren't you going to tell me how I can repent?' she asked, confused. 'I sinned, didn't I? I let him have his way with me, and now I'm to have his child! Out of wedlock, and all! I'll be shunned! Cast out! Father! Tell me what to do, please.'

'Oh,' Father panted, 'Fuck… fuck… me…'

What?!

She ripped the curtain open, shocked and angered by his indecent outburst. But what she saw stopped the words in her throat. The fat, ungainly man of God was playing with himself. She could see the head of it, pink and puny, above his fist. He was giving it a good old tug, too. His eyes were closed and he was sweating profusely. She thought she'd never seen a more gross sight in her entire life!

'Oh!' she cried. 'Oh, how _disgusting_! Now I see why you wanted me to be so descriptive! So you could get off! Well, here, I'll help you get off! '

She bent her leg and slammed her foot into the side of his thigh, sending him into the wall of the Confessional. He fell off his seat, into the gap between the wall and his chair, and scrambled to get back up onto his perch before any of his congregation could hear the kerfuffle and come and investigate. But unluckily for Father O'Toole, he was a rather portly gentleman, and there wasn't enough room between the wall and the chair, which was fixed to the floor. Simply put, he was stuck!

'Help me,' he pleaded. 'Before anyone sees me like this. My arms are trapped. I can't move.'

'What?' she asked; horrified. 'You mean you want me to… to _touch_ it? Put it away for you? No way! I've done enough of _that_ to last me a lifetime, thank you! No, I think you can stay there, so that everyone can see the _real_ you. Who has something to confess, now?'

'You bitch,' he roared. 'You're a whore! I'll tell _everyone_.'

'Somehow, in about four or five months, I think they'll know all about _my_ sins,' she replied. 'As for yours, I think they'll know _much_ sooner.' She turned and walked from the Confessional, waving the next parishioner – a startled woman in her sixties – into the space she left behind.

'What on earth, Father,' she could hear the woman say. And then she heard a shrill scream.

She walked out of church with a serene smile on her face.

The End


End file.
